


Sink

by varooooom



Series: Random Word Prompts [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 13:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varooooom/pseuds/varooooom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Pendragon is faced with his greatest foe, and the only way to victory is, naturally, to get naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sink

**Author's Note:**

> This spawned from a meme that was one random word for one random piece of headcanon. The word for this one was "heat." There'll be more to come eventually, and they're all super fluffy drabbles purely made for the sake of baaaaws.

If there's one thing Arthur can't stand for in this world, it's the blatant mistreatment of his people, Morgana's incessant bickering, and the _heat_. The first two are solved easily enough, either by knocking some miscreant down a few pegs or reminding the Lady she's due to return to the pastures with the rest of her ilk, but it is nigh impossible to escape the bloody heat of midsummer in Camelot. It fills rooms from corner to corner, twining with the very air to suffocate and consume everything it touches. It slows productivity from the lower town to the outlying villages, but damn if it slows the Court, and there are none that would ever deign to tell Uther they can't actually see the reports they're reading through the sweat pooling in their eyes.

It's best to simply suffer through it, Arthur knows, but it is _suffering_.

Merlin knows all of this because Arthur won't shut up about it and hasn't for the last three weeks. When he isn't drilling his men into puddles on the training grounds or parading around the castle barking orders just for the sake of staying in motion, the Prince is lazing about his chambers, completely miserable and making his servant miserable in turn. The heat may be suffering for Arthur but Arthur in the heat is suffering for Merlin.

But what Merlin _also_ knows is that the direction they are going in at the moment is _not the one they want_. They're on the fourth patrol this fortnight and his arse is sore from being in the saddle so often and the villages they're looking for are not over here and the sun is at midsky and not getting any lower so why on Earth are they going the _wrong bloody direction_?

When he voices this much, all he gets in response is a "Shut up, Merlin" that doesn't even have any bite to it because they're both _dying_.

"Oh, that's it, isn't it? You want to kill us," Merlin says irritably, sagging against his horse and making himself even that much more uncomfortable. "You've decided the throne's not worth the wait and you're putting an end to our misery. Excellent, brilliant plan, Sire, they'll find our melted remains and poke at it with sticks going 'Oh look, this must be Merlin because he's still cursing Arthur the Prince Prat for being a cabbagehead and getting him melted.'"

Through his ranting and blind complaints, Merlin doesn't even realise that they've stopped until enough time passes without Arthur's witty response that he fears he may have actually just died. He sits up abruptly in his saddle, just in time to note the river they've come upon and a pile of chainmail underneath a tree and Arthur wading into the water completely naked -

He nearly falls off his horse. Well, no, technically he _does_ fall off the horse, but as Arthur is too busy swimming out into the middle of the river (naked naked he is swimming _naked_ ), no one sees so no one knows so it did not happen. And certainly not because a certain arse's arse distracted him. Merlin gets to his feet with all the grace of a newborn fawn and ties both of the horses to a tree near the water to drink their fill, then fidgets around nervously because _what the buggering Hell is going on_? He keeps his eyes on the treetops under the guise of keeping eyes out for bandits but really just counting down from twenty and thinking of Gaius changing or Uther and his troll or anything but the blonde prat that has no sense of decency or shame or -

\- personal space, as luck would have it, because as Merlin's busy distracting himself, he doesn't notice when strong arms wrap around him from behind and lift him bodily from the ground. His first instinct is panic until he realises he's being carried to the water by bare arms and there's a bare chest behind him, and then he goes from fear to relief to arousal to guilt to anger to oh _shit_.

"Arthur - !" but it's far too late, and the Prince has tucked Merlin close to his body to leap sideways and drag them both under the water, Merlin kicking away from him in surprise to surface with a gasp. He hears laughter behind him and turns around to see Arthur still halfway submerged behind him, water dripping from his long, brown eyelashes and his blonde-turned-brown hair soaked to his head, full of mirth and relaxation and joy that does absolutely nothing to distract Merlin from the naked chest that stretches down below the lines of Arthur's neck. Merlin's suddenly glad they're deep enough in the water that he can reasonably float without standing, because standing would be a Very Bad Idea right now.

"So _that's_ what you wanted. To bring me out to the middle of nowhere and drown me in a river, I understand now," Merlin glares, going for righteous anger over the other more pressing emotions bubbling under his skin.

"Don't be such a _girl_ , Merlin," and Arthur grins something wild and beautiful that goes straight to Merlin's cock that twitches with interest despite the cold sting of the water and the soggy cling of Merlin's wet clothes. The only thing that keeps him from dying of embarrassment is the thought that Arthur is entirely unaware, being that he's arching back to dunk his hair in the water again and _fuck_ , that should not be so hot and Merlin should not be watching and this is all completely and utterly unfair.

"You couldn't've at least _warned_ me first?" Merlin tries to choke out the complaint past the highly inappropriate constricting of his throat, and decidedly turns away to start swimming back to shore. Only he doesn't make it very far before the same arms are wrapping around him again, one across his chest and one _much lower_ , Arthur's hand curling around his cock and giving a mean squeeze. Merlin squeaks.

"Honestly, _Mer_ lin," he growls beside Merlin's ear, palming at his growing erection until he's completely hard and shaking apart in Athur's arms. "I don't see how you've any cause to complain."

"A - Arthur," Merlin chokes, left arm shooting up to cling to Arthur's while the right flails back to grip Arthur's hip for balance. His bare hip. His bare hip that is slotted perfectly against Merlin's arse, his cock pressed between them and _gods_ , fuck, this is not _fair_. He can feel Arthur's cock growing slowly against him, the weight of Arthur's arm draped around him heavy and comforting, but they're just barely far enough up the bank to stand and when Arthur's hand slips between his legs to cup Merlin's balls through his soaked (and possibly ruined) trousers, Merlin cries out and bucks unintentionally, throwing them both back into the water. This time, he's _definitely_ unprepared and resurfaces sputtering to get water out of his mouth and air back in his lungs. 

Arthur is, as always, far more elegant and rises from the water with droplets clinging greedily to his skin, following the light pattering of dark blonde hair down his chest. He's laughing again, pushing the dripping wet fringe from his eyes and combing it back with his fingers, looking far more alive than he has in days. It steals Merlin's breath away just as quickly as the water, and he thinks idly he might still be drowning in the shadow of Arthur's brilliance. He catches Arthur's hand to pull him further out of the water, then stops to catch his lips in a kiss when they're only thigh deep and the blistering heat is barely reaching them through the chill of the water.

The kiss is messy and wet from water and tongues, pulling each other closer until their cocks brush together and earn a quiet gasp from them both.

"Too many clothes," Arthur grumbles and Merlin pinches his bare arse.

"Who's fault is that, you clotpole? You could've told me what you had planned."

"Mm, but this is more fun," and when he scoops Merlin up to carry him out of the water, to lay him out beside the river and let them dry together in a mess of limbs and kisses and sounds that are swallowed by the depths of the forest and the rushing water beside them, Merlin thinks _yes_ , okay, perhaps this is more fun, and maybe suffering through the summer won't be so terrible after all.


End file.
